


Celebrate

by songofhell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 19:53:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9458054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofhell/pseuds/songofhell
Summary: It's Dean's birthday, but Crowley doesn't approve of how he chooses to celebrate.





	

Dean checked his phone when he woke up, surprised to see that he had a text message. He blinked the sleepiness from his eyes and focused on the words, ‘Happy birthday, squirrel.’ His lips twitched up slightly; he hadn’t even thought about the fact that today was his birthday, but it felt good to have it acknowledged, even by Crowley.

The day passed like any other. Sure, Sam wished him happy birthday, but birthdays and holidays weren’t something the Winchesters were in the habit of celebrating. Unless you called going to a bar for a beer celebrating, which Dean did, even though it wasn’t any different from what he might do any other day.

Sam checked out early, as he usually did. Dean didn’t blame him, he knew that this day was hard for him, and that he needed some time alone; some time to remember Jessica and not feel obligated to put on a smile for Dean because it was his birthday too.

He sat there drinking for a few more minutes, and was thinking about striking up a game of pool, when a deep, British voice spoke from his left. “Drinking alone on your birthday?”

Dean rolled his eyes as he turned his head to face the demon. “It’s my party and I’ll drink alone if I want to.” He brought the bottle to his lips and took another drink for emphasis.

“Alright, if you want to be that pathetic.”

“What are you doing here, Crowley?” he sighed.

“Trying to save you from another terrible birthday.” He motioned over the bartender.

Dean waited with an arched eyebrow until Crowley was done placing his order to speak. “Who says I have terrible birthdays?”

“Please.” He threw him an exasperated look. “It’s you. All you do is sit around and drink, maybe flirt with a few pretty faces, just like any other night you’re not off risking your life doing something stupid.”

Dean wanted to argue, but there wasn’t much he could say to combat that. “So, what’s your idea of a good birthday then?” he asked as the fruity drink was set in front of Crowley, a little, plastic pitchfork materializing in it as soon as it was set down. He fought back a grin as he recognized the drink.

Crowley didn’t answer as he took a drink, but his mischievous gaze stayed locked on Dean. “How about I show you?” he asked after several seconds, a smirk plastered across his face.

Dean eyed him suspiciously for a minute before sighing. “Fine. Let me finish my drink, then we can celebrate your way.”

“Excellent.”


End file.
